Amedeo, Her Italian Billionaire(67)
“That’s me,” Kalia said.
“I’m your masseuse.”
Kalia waved to Violet then followed the woman out. A skinny man came into the room, in a robe. With his knees wide, as if Violet wanted to see his junk. She managed to look at everything but the man. At least he didn’t want to talk.
Finally someone named Kendra came out and led her to a room.
“Hop onto the table and lay back. Get comfortable. I’ll be rubbing your feet today. Are you ticklish?”
“No,” Violet said as she struggled a little to get on the massage table. She finally did get up, but she was sure she wasn’t graceful. She laid back, making sure she wasn’t flashing the woman any of her parts.
“I’m going to put a warm blanket on you then I’ll do the foot rub. If anything hurts while I’m doing it, please let me know.”
Violet was so comfortable with the blanket on her she thought she’d fall asleep.
Hour later, she felt so loved by Amedeo that she couldn’t wait to get home to him. That man was going to get laid. Or a blow job or both if he was up to it. She sat in the lounge waiting for Kalia.
Finally she arrived. She looked as relaxed as Violet felt.
“That man of yours is a keeper.”
Violet laughed. She wasn’t keeping him, but it was a thought. “I feel marvelous.”
They sipped lemon water.
“Do we have to leave?” Kalia said.
“Eventually. I’m getting hungry,” Violet said.
“Of course.” Her friend laughed. “Just give me a few minutes to enjoy the afterglow of it all.”
Violet laughed. Her toes and fingers were painted a deep red. Kalia had chosen pink for her nails.
They dressed a half an hour later. Amedeo sent the car for them. Violet lounged in the back seat, ready to thank her man. She thanked her driver then sent him off to drop Kalia home. The women hugged.
“Enjoy the rest of your day,” Violet said.
Kalia just laughed. Amedeo was waiting on the porch. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“You look so much happier than when I last saw you last.”
“I feel wonderful.” She put her arms around him. “You are an amazing man.”
He chuckled. “I have your dinner ready.”
“I’m hungry, but not for that.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”
“Yes.”
In this moment, she felt something for him. Affection? Caring? Appreciation. She didn’t think it was love.
“Maybe we should eat first. I don’t need you passing out.”
“I don’t want to eat first,” she said.
She wanted this man naked. It was that simple. She was feeling lust. That would describe the feeling in her loins. Lust. He’d done something nice and she wanted to thank him. The best way she knew how.
He nudged her away from him. “I insist.”
“Then I’m eating naked so you have to see what you’re missing,” she said.
“Let’s just go eat. No need to get naked. We’ll do that afterwards.”
“You’re a guy, don’t you want to have sex?”
“Yes, but I want you to have food in you. It’s important for you and my child.”
She sighed. “Okay.”
She followed him into the dining room where he’d set the table with fine china and candles. She stared at it all for a moment, her heart ready to burst. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never eaten macaroni and cheese on the good plates. I’ve never had a good plate.”
He kissed her cheek. “Nothing but the best for my wife.”
She laughed. “I’m not really your wife.”
“Let’s just pretend for now.”
He pulled out a chair for her. She sat. He served the food with a flourish. She thought it was the best macaroni and cheese with stewed tomatoes she’d ever eaten. He was certainly the best company. He asked all the right questions about her afternoon.
She had never felt more cared for in her life. She knew this was temporary, but she wanted to enjoy this. Even if it was just for today. Amedeo had seen that she was upset and did his best to make it all better.
He was a great man and would make someone a great husband someday.
Too bad it wouldn’t be her.
The Final Chapter
Amedeo left a sleeping Violet in bed. He had some work to catch up on since he’d taken the day off. He played with the ring on his finger. He’d insisted that they do it all. Even if he wasn’t inviting his mother, he wanted it all to seem real to Violet.
He still hadn’t told his mother that he was marrying her. What would she say? He’d have to deal with that at the next dinner. Well, he’d tell the truth. This wasn’t the real marriage. This wasn’t for forever.